The Boy Voted Most Likely to Rule the Planet
by CryptCreeperX
Summary: In High School, there's the pressure to fit in, raging hormones, and seeing the boy of your dreams with someone else. Sephiroth deals with all this. He's been on the run his whole life. When he and his nutjob dad move to Nibelheim, things get complicated. An unruly boy catches his eye. Now he must contend with his feelings while making sure Dad doesn't turn him into a pet project.
1. PROLOGUE: On the Run

**Synopsis:** _In High School, there's the pressure to fit in, raging hormones, and seeing the boy of your dreams with someone else. Sephiroth deals with all this. He's been on the run his whole life. When he and his nutjob dad move to Nibelheim, things get complicated. An unruly boy catches his eye. Now he must contend with his feelings while making sure Dad doesn't turn him into a pet project._

 **Warnings:** _language, sex (m/m), violence, gore, morally ambiguous themes, death, alcohol and drug usage, teen angst, cheating_

 **Category:** _Alternate Universe, Romance/Horror, High School AU, Sephiroth x Cloud (main pairing), Cloud x Zack, Zack x Aerith_

 **Author's Note:** _I've always wanted to do a High School AU. Of course, this being written by me, this High School story has a lot more in common with 'Ginger Snaps' and 'Jennifer's Body' than the typical high school fluff (I never realized how awesome writing Sephiroth and his oddball 'family' could be in this setting, heh). Ages have been changed to accommodate the plot. Also, despite this being an alternate universe, it applies lots of canon elements._

 _The following chapter contains death, language, and, adult situations. On a side note, Child!Sephiroth's scenes just wrote themselves. He's like this adorable, mini-adult derp. Daaaw! I love him. I could probably write a whole other story with him and his loony daddy._

* * *

 **~The Boy Voted Most Likely to Rule the Planet~**

PROLOGUE: On the Run

When Father told him it was time to _take out the trash_ , Sephiroth knew what he meant. Dragging a corpse in the middle of Corel's desert, the seven-year-old child pulled the entire weight of it with one hand. His bulky yellow hazmat bodysuit made it difficult to move and see. Not only did Sephiroth feel hot and sticky in it, but the suit appeared one size too big for his tiny frame. Each time he exhaled his plastic visor fogged in front of his face. Meanwhile, Father followed a few steps behind, donned in similar attire. Dr. Hojo remained silent as they approached a trio of chemical barrels. Hydrofluoric acid filled each of them.

Plenty of stars littered across the night sky above. The hour fell late. Only the moon and bright beams of a station wagon's headlights offered them visual aid. As the wolves from distant rocky mountains howled, the son and father duo lifted the corpse together and carefully placed it inside one of the acid-filled containers. Even with the face mask on, the child's unusual keen senses detected the stench of plastic, copper, and something similar to a sweet musky perfume. His father secured the lid.

In silence, both returned to the beat-up, late-model station wagon several feet away. The lively sounds of a stringed instrument ensemble played from its stereo.

They still had two more bodies to dump. That didn't bother Sephiroth as much as knowing they needed to skip town soon. He knew the Turks were on their way. His father had been too ambitious for his own good this time. Corel's local authorities already started to connect the number of missing persons to the town's oddball _dentist_. It would only be a matter of time before a sheriff or Turk busted down the door of their apartment to apprehend Dr. Hojo.

"Hm, this one is too large…" noted Father as he studied the bodies in their trunk, momentarily breaking Sephiroth from his mental ramblings. His cracked voice sounded muffled behind the suit's visor. "It was an unfortunate lack of foresight on my part, yes; one that must be remedied."

The late-twenties man lifted off his suit's flimsy mask and breathed in the opened air. His long dark hair was pulled back into a loose low-rise ponytail, revealing his pale skin. With a long straight nose, prominent chin, and pitch-black eyes, Dr. Hojo held all the presence of a dark brooding man. Sleep deprivation and years of intense study added lines along the forehead and between the brows. Despite his withered appearance, though, he possessed a bizarre allure. It both repulsed and fascinated many.

Father readjusted the thin frames of his glasses with a finger and stared at one of the dead bodies stashed in their wagon's trunk space. A plastic sheet rested under the corpses to prevent bodily fluids from seeping into the carpeted interior. Dr. Hojo shook his head and emitted a low growl.

Removing his mask as well, Sephiroth instantly welcomed the chilly air of Corel's desert. His neck-length silver hair stayed matted and pressed against his flushed cheeks and forehead.

The fact many mistook him for a girl couldn't be helped. His long dark lashes, blush-pink lips, petite shape and large green eyes made him too lovely and delicate to be otherwise. Sephiroth learned to deal with it. He kept telling himself it was a matter of little significance. Even so, he inwardly hoped when he got older he could amass enough height and muscles to make his sex more obvious.

Observing the two corpses now, the child realized his father was right. One of them had very long legs. There was no way it'd fit inside one of the barrels.

"Be a good boy and resolve the issue for us," ordered Father. "Snap to it now. Snap, snap, snap."

The child's large, jade-colored eyes dimly glowed. Their strange slit-like pupils thinned even more. Wordlessly, Sephiroth left his father's side to fetch a blade that rested across the passenger's side. It was so long, the back seat had to be pulled back to make room for its body.

The car's rusted door squeaked as the youngster opened it. Sephiroth made a face when he noticed a small animal sleeping at the passenger's foot space. Barney, a baby Behemoth coated with purple fur and spiked red hair, was _supposed_ to be on watch duty, looking out for desert wild life and any local authorities snooping close by. Instead, Sephiroth's childhood pet kept its eyes closed. It briefly opened them and lazily stretched out its small body. The tail wagged several times when Barney noticed Sephiroth. Then it shut its yellow eyes and fell back to sleep.

"Indolent creature…" the child muttered, borrowing a line his father often used. He took out the long sheathed sword and shut the door as quietly as possible.

By the time Sephiroth rejoined his father, the man had pulled enough of the body out of the trunk to stretch out its long legs. Dr. Hojo held onto the ankles and lifted them high. Sephiroth took a few moments to remove the lengthy sword from its holster.

 _Masamune_ originated from Wutai, the very place Father was born and raised before being cast out in his teens by Lord Godo for defiling a deceased warrior's corpse in the name of science. Setting the blade on the ground, the novice sword bearer nearly lost his balance as he yanked and pulled Masamune all the way out of its elongated holster. The white metal gleamed under the moon's lighting.

It was said only a great warrior could weld this blade. Small hands wrapped around its handle. The child lifted the sword high. Despite having the strength to hold it, he still lacked balance and struggled not to fall backward when he held it slightly more to one side. Sephiroth managed to swiftly _resolve_ the issue with one stroke, nonetheless, making sure to strike true and hard.

Both legs plopped out without a sound. It was a clean cut.

"I feel like pizza," Father announced later. Dr. Hojo dropped the legs and pulled out the remaining torso from the trunk. He began dragging it across the dirt path and headed to the second container. "How about you, boy? Do you desire edible substance as well?"

Holstering the massive sword with as much effort as it took getting it out, Sephiroth glanced up at him. Pizza. He suspected this was Father's way of apologizing for the _inconvenience_ of his actions. Or perhaps the man underestimated their delicate situation and didn't see the need to leave Corel right away. Regardless of his reasons, both corners of Sephiroth's mouth tugged. The restless, eager spirit of a seven-year-old child started to peek out from its usual stoic façade.

He was in the mood for pizza too.

"The Golden Saucer?" the boy suggested. His green eyes brightened even more when he confessed, "Their pizza is satisfactory, Father. Also, I… want to play some of the games and ride the gondola."

Dr. Hojo snorted. "Foolish child. The Saucer is closed. It's past midnight. Think before you suggest."

Sephiroth pursed his lips and shoved Masamune back into its proper place.

When silence prevailed between them, Dr. Hojo stopped dragging the body. He looked back at his son and tilted his head to one side. Words emerged low and soft when he offered, "I will take you to the park instead. Will that suffice, boy?"

Sephiroth's youthful features glowed warmly. Despite it being late at night with the air chilly, he already looked forward to playing on the park's swings and monkey bars. He nodded.

"Ah, excellent," concurred his father. "Very good then, boy. The faster we dispose of these useless specimens the faster I can heat up the oven pizza at home. We will eat it at the park. On the double now, boy. Chop, chop, chop."

Sephiroth quickly gathered the dismembered legs from the ground. He followed his father to the second barrel. Both flipped on their masks before opening the barrel's lid and dumping the evidence in acid.

 _Taking out the trash_ was a common affair for Sephiroth. He knew these corpses had something to do with Father's work but remained oblivious to the details. Dr. Hojo kept that information to himself. The boy's only concern rested on luring _specimens_ to his laboratory. Some were chosen at random; others chosen for their blood type or genetic-based encoding.

For Sephiroth, he'd been encouraged to think of his assignments as a game of wit and persuasion. His _lost-child_ performance proved effective. He'd pick a spot within his target's facility and pretend to be lost, begging them to take him home to _find his daddy_. The tears would only come out if the specimen was level-headed enough to suggest they contact the authorities than personally handle the matter. Luckily, Sephiroth's ethereal appearance and gentle voice made them all susceptible to his influence.

Any time he succeeded in acquiring a specimen, Dr. Hojo rewarded his son by letting him play in a VR game specifically designed for him. For hours, Sephiroth practiced his swordsmanship in the digital world while his father conducted medical check-ups of his specimens. On the occasion that Sephiroth's VR game was interrupted by the sound of screams from the lab, Dr. Hojo reminded him of their overall objective. He also warned his son not to get emotionally attached to the specimens or anyone else.

 _The world is filled with deceitful, fickle creatures ready to take what is yours, boy_. _You will learn only pain and loss if you attach yourself to someone. In the aftermath of loss, the brain pumps your body full of cortisol and epinephrine, resulting in swollen muscles and headaches. You'd think your body was falling apart. Best to avoid such symptoms altogether. Accept we are star dust; destined to exist and die alone._

Sephiroth kept those words in mind whenever he felt his stomach churn at the sight of a new target.

Unfortunately, these extracurricular activities made life complicated. The local authorities would always catch onto his father's handiwork. At that point, the two had to skip town. It was vital they kept on the move and remained under the radar. A lot of people searched for them, namely Shinra's people.

From what Sephiroth had been told, his father used to work for their Science Department along with a team of other scientists. Two of them, Dr. Gast and Dr. Crescent, conspired against him though. They stole his life's work and kicked him out of the Department. Shortly after, his father was thought dead after an assassination attempt.

Sephiroth never met the traitors. He was just a baby when Shinra's people betrayed Dr. Hojo. His mother, _Jenova_ , died giving birth to him. The Science Department – specifically, Dr. Crescent– tried to take custody of the silver-haired boy.

Growing up, Sephiroth knew he was special. He had inherited the unique genetic legacy of his mother. He could do things others his age couldn't do; see things others couldn't see. Father explained Dr. Crescent wanted him for Shinra's SOLDIER program. She wanted to exploit his innate gifts. He'd become Shinra's new shiny toy to order around and break. Thankfully, Father rescued him from that life. They fled Midgar City together and had been on the run ever since.

Seven years had passed since their great escape but they remained on the Turks' Most Wanted list. Taking on various identities to elude the men in suits, Sephiroth and his father went through various names and occupations as frequently as they changed clothes. Dr. Hojo had been a pharmacist, a nurse, and a dentist. Sephiroth had been Stephan, Stevens, and… Bob. Still, the Turks proved relentless. They eventually tracked their location. One particular agent, a tall dark-haired man with crimson eyes, was the most persistent of them all.

 _Valentine_.

This Turk seemed hell-bent in retrieving the silver-haired boy and handing him over to Dr. Crescent. He had likely been sent on her behalf. Dr. Hojo instructed his son to avoid Valentine at all costs and not to believe any of his lies.

Deception. Running. Hiding. This had become Sephiroth's reality. Soon, he would start a new life in a new town with a new name. Different place. Different identity. Same predicament. Because of Shinra, he couldn't live a normal existence like the other kids. Sephiroth grew determined to bring down the company that ruined their lives, especially the two scientists that betrayed his father. He also vowed to protect Dr. Hojo at all costs. He didn't want to lose him to prison or death; he'd already lost his mother.

"You won't leave me, Father, will you?" the child quietly asked, removing the last body from the trunk.

This question came out of his mouth so suddenly that even he had to pause afterward. Admittedly, this fear had been haunting Sephiroth for a long time. As strong as he was, as fast as he was, as smart as he was, he dreaded the possibility of being alone in this world; of being abandoned.

"Foolish child," Father responded with, "Only pathetic, feeble-minded little boys ask irrelevant questions like that. You are not pathetic or feeble-minded, are you?"

"…No, Father."

"Do not act or talk as such then."

"…Yes, Father."

Dr. Hojo walked side-by-side with his son to the final barrel. The scientist folded his arms behind him and studied the night sky above. Even with the biohazard mask on, his voice still carried strong and loud. "Sephiroth. I've partaken in many experiments in my life. I've endured countless failures in my quest to test the laws of science. You… are my greatest creation. For the first time in my life, I stand witness to something even science cannot define or contain."

Slowing down, Sephiroth turned his head. His green eyes filled with a soft light as he watched his father.

"In time, you will grow into a splendid man. You will sail the cosmos long after my body has rotted. It may be a difficult and lonely journey for you. That often is the case for individuals the world cannot comprehend. You may walk among men but you will always stand above them as a God. Thus, you must physically _and_ mentally be strong. You must endure and prevail. Do you understand my words, boy? Do you understand their significance?"

Sephiroth slowly nodded.

"Until the day comes when I last draw my breath, I will watch over you. You are my legacy and what a fruitful legacy that will be." This time, Dr. Hojo looked back at Sephiroth. The creases between his brows relaxed. "Now quicken the pace, boy. I starve, heh heh heh."

It wasn't long until all three bodies were secured in their barrels. They buried them deep in Corel's desert. Even if the Turks located them, Sephiroth knew his father's work would be dissolved in the acid long before they arrived. Dr. Hojo also rigged each container with explosives. Anyone foolish enough to disturb them and survive the blast would be sprayed by the acid. Either way, their work was done. They headed home.

* * *

Five minutes remained on an oven's digital timer. Warm air circulated throughout the apartment along with the aroma of freshly cooked pizza. Sephiroth couldn't wait to feast on it. Solid food was a rarity for him. His entire diet revolved around green colored protein shakes Dr. Hojo specifically concocted for him. They tasted sweet and tangy. In the times Sephiroth felt too nauseous to ingest the shakes, he'd be strapped to an IV that pumped him with an unknown green liquid. He had no idea what the fluid contained, only that it made him feel lightheaded.

Situated on the second floor of an apartment complex, the child left the door of his bedroom opened to keep an eye on the oven directly across in the kitchen. As he did, he shoved various personal items into his Moogle-shaped backpack. Barney slept on his mattress while late-night reruns of _Chocobo and Cactuar Adventures_ broadcasted on a television screen.

" _Kweh! Today we're going on a grand adventure with the family, kids,_ " announced Chocobo. " _We're going to have lots of super fun! Kweh!_ "

Sephiroth sincerely doubted that. He didn't look forward to the move. Still, he humored Chocobo and Cactuar anyway by watching the rest of their show while he continued to pack. Onscreen, Cactuar appeared next. It blinked its large green eyes and stared directly at him.

" _Spending time with the family is super important, kids. Not all families are the same, but that's okay. We all have one thing in common: love._ "

"Love…" Sephiroth echoed.

" _So make sure you spend as much time with your family and tell them you love them, kids!_ "

"I don't think my father would approve of that…" Sephiroth tried to reason with the fictional character, "He views love as an irrational emotion based on manipulation and coercion."

" _Kweh! Love your family, kids_ ," reinforced Chocobo, as if that was the only thing that mattered right now. " _Can you spell 'family', kweh?_ "

" _F-A-M-I-L-Y_ …" Sephiroth answered confidently and slid a pair of underwear into his backpack.

" _Kweh! That's right,_ " Chocobo automatically replied moments later.

The child furrowed his silver brows while he watched Chocobo and Cactuar dance onscreen. He knew this was a recorded rerun and wondered aloud, "But what if I had misspelled it, Chocobo? It seems inappropriate to presume I would've answered your question correctly."

" _Kweh! Now onto our adventure!_ " continued Chocobo, ignoring his question. " _Let's gooooo!_ "

"Insufferable, imbecilic bird… Be gone." With the remote, Sephiroth changed the channel to another kid show he liked.

To his right, the sound of running water came from the bathroom he shared with his father. The door was closed. Dr. Hojo currently showered, getting rid of any traces from tonight's activities on his person. Sephiroth wanted to have all his packing done before he got out, lest he received a lengthy lecture on promptness.

The plan was simple: load whatever was left in the apartment to the car and head out to the park with their pizza. Tonight would be their final night in Corel Town. It promised to be a peaceful one. As always, Father had promised this would be the last time they needed to move but Sephiroth knew better. He didn't question him or express his doubts though.

Already, he dreaded the woes that came from transferring schools. By now, he'd gone through three of them. Or was it four? Difficult to keep track of. At only seven-years-old, all of his instructors considered him a smart clever boy – save for that one time he told everyone his mother was an alien from outer space during Parents Day. Sephiroth shocked many adults with his knowledge of biology and chemistry too; his father had personally seen to that. _A child prodigy_ , they all claimed. His current school wanted to jump him ahead several grades.

If only he could stick around long enough to complete his classes.

The child reached and grabbed a yellow framed picture from a nearby dresser. It showed his father and him at the Golden Saucer. Sephiroth's younger self held a Moogle plushie. A rare easy smile appeared on his father's face. While he didn't hold Sephiroth like the other parents did with their children, he stood close by his side with one hand on his shoulder.

Holding the framed picture close to his chest, Sephiroth recalled that had been a fun time. Father's laugh sounded different that day; gentle and soft. He wished they could go back to that place, to that specific moment of normalcy. Sephiroth finally let go of the treasured memory when loud laughter directed his attention to a glassed door behind him. It led to his balcony outside.

Despite being one in the morning, a barbeque party commenced at the ground level's public pool. Still holding onto his framed picture, Sephiroth padded barefooted across the carpet floor of his bedroom. He wandered to the balcony outside and peeked over the metal railing.

A large group of teenagers occupied the outdoor space. Music blasted from stereo speakers while the pits steamed with various scents of cooked meat. Liquids with bright colors were gulped down in an instant. It looked like a lively environment, complete with party balloons. Sephiroth stood upright when he noticed a good number of topless women strutting about in the party. They swam or danced, swaying their hips to the beat of the music. The child's cheeks colored warmly.

He was familiar with the biological structure of females but had never seen a naked one in person before. The illustrations on his tablet left… a lot of details out, such as how breasts appeared when under the influence of gravity and motion. Interesting.

Sephiroth blinked several times when he discovered two teens at a dark corner, both male, doing something with their lower regions. The child shifted his head to one side. He watched their bodies repeatedly press together. Baffled by this activity, he determined it was some sort of mating ritual. But what was the point? Males could not procreate with other males. Sephiroth wondered if the information he'd read on human reproduction had been wrong all along. Perhaps he missed some vital piece of data. He'd have to ask Father for additional input whenever he had the chance.

A sequential beeping sound from the kitchen reminded Sephiroth about the pizza. He turned away from the odd scene below and re-entered his bedroom, ready to check on dinner. Sephiroth froze by the glassed door when he discovered the tall silhouette of a man at his room's opened entry.

The stranger's arrival came so soundless and swift Sephiroth hadn't detected him until now. Even Barney stayed unaware. His young Behemoth still slept. Standing several feet away from the intruder, Sephiroth recognized the dark two-piece suit he wore; complete with a tie and white collared shirt. Short raven-black hair reached down to his neck. His piercing red eyes locked onto the boy's green.

It was Valentine.

"Sephiroth… I mean you no harm," Valentine murmured. He took only one step forward with both palms opened and raised, proving himself unarmed.

Sephiroth dropped the framed picture in his hands. It made a low _thud_ sound as it hit the carpet floor; too low to wake Barney up. The boy mentally cursed at himself. Had he stayed vigilant, he would've picked up on Vincent's signature scent above the pizza's aroma. He also would've heard him approach over the sounds of his television and the party's music below. Remembering he had left his sword on the passenger's seat, Sephiroth knew Father would scold him for his negligence later.

"I'm glad you're all right…" continued the Turk. He stayed by the doorway with hands still up in the air but leaned his head forward. "You have to come with me. Okay? I need to get you somewhere safe."

Maintaining his distance, Sephiroth's nose caught whiff of more unique scents in the air. Gun metal, moss, and cinnamon. They matched the profiles of two Turks that usually accompanied Vincent in his manhunt mission: Tseng and Veld. Either they were in route or currently blocked potential escape exits.

Hearing the water in the bathroom still running, the boy contemplated on alerting Father of the intruders. His mouth stayed pursed when he noted the pistol tucked discretely in Valentine's jacket. The last thing Sephiroth wanted was to prompt the Turk to remove his weapon and shoot the man in the bathroom. His priority was to protect Father. At all costs.

"Sephiroth, come with me," Valentine urged again and finally lowered his hands. The light in his red eyes shimmered. "You don't need to be afraid of me."

 _Afraid?_ The child nearly snorted. That word held little meaning for him when it came to life-threatening circumstances. His strength and speed made him more terrifying than the boogeyman that supposedly slept under his bed whenever he forgot to floss his teeth. It wouldn't take much effort to ram his tiny fist into Valentine's ribbed cage and yank out his still beating heart. This possibility certainly explained why the Turk took great care in approaching him; he'd essentially entered a lion's den.

Every part of Sephiroth demanded he eliminate the threat and extract Dr. Hojo before the other two Turks arrived. That made logical sense. Sephiroth stayed put though. The fact Valentine came by himself and unarmed, fully knowing he could die, stirred the child's curiosity. Either the Turk had a death wish or was foolish enough to believe he could overpower a boy classified as a Class S threat.

"My God… You look more and more like her each time I see you…" Valentine's voice was nearly lost to the television's cheery melody. His chest rose and fell as he took a slow, deep breath. "I promised your mother I would protect you at all costs and bring you back to her. Not a day goes by that she doesn't think about you, Sephiroth."

The mention of _mother_ caused the boy to glower. Sephiroth knew better than to engage in conversation with this man. However, the sensitive topic prompted him to spit out, " _Liar_. My mother is dead."

"That's not true…"

" _Silence_ ," the boy cut him off. "You are trying to deceive me and take me away from Father."

Valentine moved forward. He stopped in the middle of the room when Sephiroth took a step back to keep their distance. The Turk paused. Then he kneeled on one leg to reach the boy's eye level. "I'm not sure what you've been told, Sephiroth. I don't know how much you know or _don't_ know. However, I'm not what you think I am. I am not your enemy."

"Oh?" Sephiroth wrinkled his nose. A peculiar smell drifted in the air now but he chose to ignore it, feeling too invested in their conversation. "You came to kill my father and take me to Shinra. That is all I need to know you're my enemy."

"Not everything is what it seems to be…" Valentine lowered his gaze to the ground. He found the framed photo of Sephiroth and his father together there. The Turk visibly swallowed. "I'm not sure if you're ready to hear the truth. Quite honestly, I shouldn't be the person to tell you it. The truth should come from someone who deeply cares about you."

Standing several feet away, Sephiroth remained motionless.

Valentine stared intently at the child now. "Your mother isn't dead. She's alive. Dr. Crescent… _She_ is your mother, Sephiroth."

Remembering his father's warnings, Sephiroth took another step back. He refused to believe Valentine's lies. His thick locks of silver hair swayed as he shook his head and clenched his small fists tighter. The ivory skin of his cheeks flared with color. "Jenova was my mother. Dr. Crescent is the traitor who wanted to take me away from Father. She betrayed Father. Go back to your _master_ , Turk. Go back and rot with the rest of Shinra's dogs."

"I'm sworn to protect you."

"I don't require your protection. I need you to go away and leave us in peace."

"I'm not leaving you behind," Valentine declared and rose to his feet. He stood at full height. "I already failed you once. I'm not going to fail you again. Perhaps one day, after you know the truth, I can ask you for forgiveness. But until that day comes, I will do everything in my power to protect you."

The man's words sounded strange to Sephiroth's ears. _Forgiveness?_ Forgiveness for what?

Sephiroth's patience waned. He reminded himself that Valentine was a Turk. Anything coming out of this man's mouth consisted of lies intended to confuse him. Shinra's operatives excelled in deception. All the same, Valentine's words possessed an air of sincerity in them. A type of sadness and rage existed in his eyes too. It reminded Sephiroth of his father's whenever he asked about mother.

Before Sephiroth could contemplate more on this Turk, a _click_ sound echoed in his bedroom. His eyes shifted to another figure. It stood directly behind Valentine.

Father.

The water in the bathroom was still running but there stood Dr. Hojo with a towel wrapped around his waist. His wet black hair draped over his shoulders. He held a gun in his hand and pointed it directly at the back of Valentine's head. The hammer was already pulled back.

"You did well, Sephiroth," Father commended. "You distracted Mr. Valentine long enough for me to get into position, heh. Such a good boy…"

Sephiroth's mouth formed a thin line.

The baby Behemoth awoke from its slumber with a slow start upon hearing Dr. Hojo's loud voice and chuckle. When its yellow eyes fixed on an intruder, however, its tail instantly shot up straight. It snarled at Valentine. Quickly, the young Behemoth jumped down from the bed and scurried to Sephiroth's side, ready to protect him. Its small, high-pitched roar echoed across the room. Concerned his pet might accidentally run into the line of Father's fire, the boy snatched Barney up and held it close to his chest.

"Ah, I imagine the position I've put you in must be frustrating, eh, Mr. Valentine?" Dr. Hojo pointed out with a sneer. "And here I thought you were a well-trained professional Turk capable of detecting threats a mile away. You've gotten sloppy." Dr. Hojo turned to Sephiroth. "Or… perhaps the sight of my son has relieved you of your senses, hmm? Quite a beautiful child he is, wouldn't you say? He does remind you of a certain _someone_. Doesn't he?"

Valentine's teeth tapped together.

"Dr. Crescent must be getting desperate," continued Dr. Hojo. "After all this time, she is still using her lap dog to retrieve what is rightfully mine."

"Hojo…" the Turk muttered back at last. Valentine's half-lidded eyes strayed to the scientist behind him. "There's no need to let this go on any further. I'll call off the hunt. You'll be given a clean slate. You can do whatever the hell you want from this point on; I no longer give a damn. Just give me the boy. This madness has to stop."

"You sound as if I acted alone on this. Don't forget, _she_ conceded to it too."

"She is trying to set things right."

"It's too late to _set things right_. We've crossed the point of no return. In the end, we are scientists; we have always been scientists. We worship the same principles and have sacrificed much for those principles. An inferior mind like yours wouldn't understand."

Valentine's jaw clenched. "Maybe I don't. But I _do_ understand a great sin has been committed against an innocent boy. _He_ is the one paying the price for your _principles_. If there is an ounce of humanity left in you, Hojo, you will hand him over to me."

Dr. Hojo edged closer. "I've no intention of giving up my son, Mr. Valentine. Any reckless buffoon that attempts to take him away from me will reap the consequences. Starting with you."

Hojo pushed the gun's tip against the Turk's head. His index finger moved to pull back the trigger. He paused, however, when a high-pitched noise erupted from the kitchen.

Thick gray smoke pumped into the air from the oven. Its fogged glass lit up brightly, revealing a fire had started. The stench of charred pizza lingered in the apartment. Sephiroth realized that had been the strange smell he detected earlier.

The non-stop alarm sound momentarily caught Hojo off guard. In a blur, Valentine moved left. He halfway twisted his body and elbowed the other man on the face. Hojo stumbled back. Sephiroth reactively flinched when he heard the loud pop of his gun go off. His father yelled as he blindly fired several shots into the air, trying to hit Valentine while falling backward. One projectile grazed Sephiroth's shoulder. He blinked at the fresh cut.

"Get down!" Valentine ordered and leapt toward the child. Pushing him to the floor, the Turk shielded Sephiroth from another stray bullet. Blood splattered across the carpet. The boy noticed a blotch of red quickly spread across Valentine's chest.

Sephiroth coughed. While the closed oven contained the fire, the flames hadn't died out due to the ignitor still on. Blacker clouds of smoke emitted from the kitchen. They filtered throughout the apartment. Sephiroth's acute nose made it difficult to breathe in the toxic air.

Underneath the Turk, Sephiroth clutched onto Barney who yelped and squirmed under the weight of the tall man lying on top of them. The boy heard the Turk's erratic heartbeat. Valentine's fatal chest injury forced his heart to work double time, supplying him with blood only to cause him to choke on it. Red streaked a corner of Valentine's mouth. Sephiroth knew he wouldn't last long.

" _Why…?_ " the boy found himself asking, staring at the enemy who shielded him. "I… I didn't require your assistance." He coughed again.

"I already told you… I'm sworn to protect you…"

Sephiroth lay motionlessly, looking up at him. Their faces were inches apart from each other.

For the briefest of moments, Valentine smiled. It reached his own peculiar set of eyes. His thumb brushed aside a strand of silver hair from Sephiroth's right cheek. Despite breathing out his final moments, the Turk looked completely at peace.

"You may be a child, Sephiroth…" Valentine whispered, "You may not have control over your life right now… However, in time you'll get to decide on what kind of man you want to be when you grow up… That's something science or your parents can't control… Don't lose that. Don't lose your light…"

Sephiroth watched the light in Valentine's red eyes slowly fade. Blood dripped from his parted lips. The Turk exhaled one more time before he collapsed on top of him. His punctured heart stopped beating.

" _Why…?_ " the child murmured beneath him. Staring blankly at the ceiling above, he observed the smoke gather there.

The sound of footsteps quickly approached from Sephiroth's left side. His father appeared in his vision now. Dr. Hojo stood above him, peering down at him with a pale expression on his face.

"Are you hurt, boy?" His father quickly shoved Valentine's body to the side. Barney whined and freed itself from Sephiroth's grasp while Dr. Hojo scanned his son for visible damages. He grimaced when he noticed a cut on the shoulder. His laugh sounded forced as he uttered, "A scratch, boy… Heh, just a scratch. I'll heal that up soon."

It seemed like a pointless gesture, Sephiroth thought to himself. His body already started to mend the wound. Before he could point this out, his father grabbed the back of his head and pulled him close, holding him tight in his arms. Sephiroth froze. His body grew tensed.

This… was the first time his father ever hugged him.

"I'm not letting them take you away from me; _never_ ," Dr. Hojo mumbled close to Sephiroth's ear. His damped skin smelled of fresh ivory from his recent shower. The next words that came out of him sounded low and harsh. "The world will burn before they can take you away. You belong to me…"

Green eyes softened. Sephiroth slumped deeper into his father's arms, taking comfort in his warmth, smell, and closeness. The child wanted this embrace to last forever.

When Sephiroth noticed the fallen Turk next to them, his body reactively stiffened again. He knew he should've been glad by the results. Valentine was finally gone. He no longer posed a threat to them. And yet, Sephiroth couldn't find it in himself to be content with this conclusion. The Turk's demise and his words left him feeling… lost.

"We need to leave, boy," Dr. Hojo implored when he pulled away. He held Sephiroth's face with both hands. "Gather your belongings. Quickly. Others are coming."

Father was right. Sephiroth heard Valentine's partners close by. They shot the lock mechanism of their apartment's front entry and forced their way in. Dr. Hojo hurried to shut the door of Sephiroth's bedroom and block it with a dresser to buy them time. He grabbed his pistol off the ground afterward.

At this point, Sephiroth got to his feet. He laced up his shoes and slipped on his backpack within seconds. After retrieving his pet, he followed Dr. Hojo to the balcony. The child paused at the glassed door to look back at Valentine one more time.

 _Don't lose your light_. The boy tried to dismiss those final words as trivial nonsense. Nonetheless, they resonated deep within him for some reason. Even the conversation that happened between Valentine and his father moments ago evoked many questions. They seemed on familiar terms with each other. Did Father… know this Turk beforehand?

A loud banging from the other side of the bedroom door jotted Sephiroth out of his stupor. His father yelled for him to hurry to the balcony. The boy complied. He joined his father outside and looked down at the pool below.

By now, the party-goers paused and looked up at the commotion. The music still thumped but no one danced. Other residents in the apartment building also came out of their dwellings to investigate the bizarre scene. Many eyes widened in shock when they noticed a man donned in a bath towel and his seven-year-old son leap over the balcony's railing from the second floor together.

Sephiroth held his breath and made sure to hold onto Barney tightly as he dropped two levels straight down. In seconds, blue consumed his vision.

Underwater, Sephiroth kicked up his legs until he reached the surface. Barney slithered out of his grasp by then and padded to the edge of the pool with its paws. Sephiroth followed in the same direction. Both got out of the pool before Dr. Hojo did.

While Barney rapidly shook itself, the boy waited for his father. Dr. Hojo cursed. It was a rare occurrence for the likes him, especially when the highly intellectual man deemed such immature language beneath him. Sephiroth reached out a hand to him, urging him to hurry. Father looked reluctant to get out of the water though. His son soon discovered the issue.

The dive's deep impact caused the man to lose his towel in the process. As amusing as that was, the colorful moment became short lived. Several shots rained over them from the balcony.

The Turks.

Immediately, the barbeque party dispersed. Teenagers screamed as they scattered in all directions. Those in the pool swam for the ledge. Modesty be damned, Sephiroth yanked his father out of the water. In his panicked state he used a bit too much force. Dr. Hojo's arm made a crude _pop_ sound. He yelled a high note and collapsed on the wet pavement in front of his son; his limb a tangled mess. While Sephiroth felt relieved he hadn't torn off his arm, the man's face turned into a fierce red color.

Dr. Hojo gritted his teeth and barely managed to say, "The car, boy…"

Bullets bounced off various surfaces close to them. Thanks to the teens that scattered everywhere, the Turks had trouble finding a good shot. Sephiroth realized their bullets were intended for Dr. Hojo though. He made sure to position himself close, offering his father extra coverage as they dashed for the family station wagon. It was at the parking lot just beyond the pool area.

The Turks lowered their weapons. They dropped into the pool as well to pursue the chase on foot.

Soaked and naked and in physical agony, Dr. Hojo muttered a range of lengthy incoherent words when they arrived at their car and opened its unlocked doors. Sephiroth knew he'd be reprimanded over his lack of strength control later – it was something he still needed work on. Inside the car, he helped his father pop the arm back into place and issued a faint apology. Dr. Hojo responded with a growl. Sephiroth naturally assumed his frustration came from the arm pain. However, he soon learned of an unpleasant revelation as they sat inside their car.

The keys to the ignition… They had been left behind during their hasty retreat.

Dr. Hojo opened the glove department and pulled out a crystal orb. He passed it to his son. "Boy, deal with those Turks while I bypass the vehicle's ignition system."

It wasn't a request: _it was an order_.

Sephiroth instantly knew what he had to do. He'd initially considered using Masamune to do the job but Father's plan proved more effective. The boy took the fire materia and fused it with his left arm. His skin surged with warmth and dimly glowed red.

Under regular circumstances, bonding materia in this manner would've resulted in the arm catching on fire. Materia users were, thus, advised to fuse the orb with a weapon or item instead. They could harness the powers of Gaia without blowing up an appendage in the process. For Sephiroth, though, he suffered only mild discomfort from this direct method. His peculiar blood type could adapt and symbiotically fuse with the Lifestream's crystallized essence.

Equipped with a fire orb in his arm, Sephiroth got out of the car. He made sure to close his door so that Barney didn't follow after him. Meanwhile, Dr. Hojo busied himself with the car's wires, attempting to spark it to life while trying to ignore the flares of pain that jolted across his arm.

Standing in the middle of the parking lot, a cool breeze settled over Sephiroth. His damped silver hair clung to his alabaster skin. In the far distance, the sound of sirens wailed. It indicated the local authorities had been called and were in route. He estimated they'd arrive in ten minutes, which meant they had to be gone before then if they hoped to make it out of Corel without further complications.

The rapid succession of footsteps against hard pavement directed Sephiroth's attention straight ahead. He found Tseng and Veld closing in. Both Turks had their weapons drawn out. However, the two simultaneously stopped meters away when they noticed his left arm glowing.

"Sephiroth…" the right one – the older one named _Veld_ – started, "Stand down, son. No one has to get hurt tonight."

"One already has gotten hurt…" the child remarked in a quiet voice. He mentally pictured Valentine's bloodied smile and cast his eyes on the ground. "Leave. Leave us alone and tend to your fallen man."

Silence filled the space between the three figures in the parking lot. Despite his small height, Sephiroth stood with his head held high and shoulders pulled back. He didn't want to come off as weak or intimidated in front of these men. Straight ahead, Veld took a step forward.

"It wasn't your fault. Was it, child?" he started, "I surveyed Valentine's wound. It came from a 9mm Glock pistol. I don't imagine you've used a gun before. Have you?"

Sephiroth refrained from confirming Veld's assessment.

"We've no intention of punishing you, son," the older man stated. "Whatever you've done, we know it was not of your accordance. Our objective is to ensure your safety and accompany you to Midgar."

Sephiroth stayed quiet. Behind him, the car's engine briefly revved up. It died a moment later. Father still needed more time to get it started.

Meanwhile, the second Turk – _Tseng_ – moved away from Veld. He looked to be in his teens; his long black hair was pulled into a high ponytail. The young man kept his gun down but walked a few steps to the side. The light in Sephiroth's green eyes intensified. He suspected this one intended to circle around him and get a clear shot of Dr. Hojo while Veld distracted him. For Sephiroth, this confirmed Shinra's intentions. They wanted to take out his father.

Sephiroth raised his left arm. It grew brighter. This prompted Tseng to stop in his tracks. Tseng met his gaze, conveying that same emotionless façade Sephiroth conveyed to the world.

"Don't you want to see your mother?" Veld spoke again. "We can take you to her tonight, son."

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. The hand of his left arm formed a small fist. Once again, these Turks were trying to exploit his emotions and confuse him. He had enough of these mind games. He closed his eyes and drew out the powers held within his infused materia.

" _Jenova was my mother_ ," Sephiroth declared as he cast a semi-circled wall of fire around him. It instantly blocked Veld and Tseng from him and his father.

"My god…" he overheard Veld say above the loud cracking of flames, astonished by the fire-master level Sephiroth had achieved despite his very young age.

"My mother is dead," Sephiroth announced soon afterward. His eyes burned brightly. "…as will _all_ of you be if you pursue us any longer."

The cluttered engine of the car sparked to life at last. Through the flames, the small silver-haired boy turned and stalked back to his father.

Dr. Hojo murmured a word under his breath as he observed his inferno. He stared at Sephiroth afterward when he got inside the car. From the passenger's seat, the child mentally commanded the wall of fire to grow even higher, as high as their ten-storied apartment building. He wanted to send a strong message to those who dared to come after them again.

Within seconds, the station wagon's tires squealed. They pulled out of the parking lot at a fast speed.

Sephiroth's final night in Corel wasn't as peaceful as he had hoped it to be. Their pizza had burned. Both were drenched in water and smelled of chlorine. His father sat stark naked behind the wheel with his long black hair clinging to his skin everywhere. And the Turks had likely called in the choppers in their futile attempt to apprehend them. No, it had not been a peaceful, happy night for Sephiroth.

Barney licked the boy's left hand, as if to console him. Then it settled on his lap, slowly wagging its tail. Sephiroth looked out his window as they raced down a street. He saw his fire still burning at his rear view mirror. Then he watched buildings and cars flash by while they sped into the night.

Hopefully their next location fared better.


	2. First Day Woes

**Author's Note:** _Welcome, creepers! Here's a new chapter to satisfy your thirst for Sephiroth (and an appearance from Cloud). I had too much fun with it. This story is essentially the perspective of 'villains'. I'm also a sucker for tension and drama, especially when dealing with matters of the heart. Once again, ages have been changed to accommodate the plot. Also, I'm putting up a new poll. I would appreciate feedback on it. (Warnings: implied sexual situations, mild language)_

* * *

CHAPTER 1: First Day Woes – _Ten Years Later_

Nibelheim City. An assortment of metal-made structures and flashy advertisements littered the budding metropolis. Thousands of cars and people flooded its pavement streets even during its early morning hours. What initially began as a backwater town now blossomed to a full-fledge city that expanded across the whole Nibel Area. After nearly a decade of being under Shinra's influence, few landmarks and establishments remained from its former life. Mom-and-pop shops turned into trendy restaurants and retail stores. A family oriented Inn became an extravagant yet sleazy ten-storied-high Love Hotel. Even a well-beloved water tower expanded into an elaborate water system, surrounded by metal gates and giant concrete pillars.

About the only places trapped in the past were the homes built back in Nibelheim's village days. _Old Town_. That was the name longtime residents affectionately referred the north side of the city, passed the train tracks. Made of hard wood and stone, these houses offered a sharp contrast to the modern-day chic residences; remnants of a time less complicated. The oldest personal dwelling, however, stood at the outskirts of Nibelheim City, beyond human civilization and nestled deep in a thick forest.

Secluded and far away from city life, a three-storied mansion rose against a backdrop of trees and mountains. Having developed a nasty reputation of being a haunted place, few buyers took an interest in it save for self-acclaimed ghost hunters and psychics. A stone-built wall kept adrenaline-seeking youths off its property but they somehow snuck in anyway during All Spirits' Eve to get spooked or get high. The landscape leading to its front doors appeared in disarray with tall weeds, uncut grass, rampant vines, and lifeless bushes. For years, this manor remained unoccupied, covered by dust, cobwebs, and critters, until the day came when a middle-aged man and his peculiar teenaged son moved in.

In a dark-lit room on the second floor, the silhouette of a figure stood by a vertically long window that overlooked the distant cityscape of Nibelheim. A melody with rhythmic electric beats played from a sound system. Slow and quiet, the indistinguishable vocalist sounded both male and female, hitting absurd high and low notes. The tall figure never moved, merely listened to the song's bizarre notes echo while the morning sun gradually filled the dark chamber with purples and blues.

Across the window's glass a ghostly reflection became more apparent; more defined. It conveyed the image of young man with ivory skin and strange green illuminated eyes. His long silver hair draped over his bare chest and shoulders.

For Sephiroth, the possibility of spirits and demons stalking these premises didn't disturb him as much as the sense of déjà vu that hit when he and his father first moved into the mansion three years ago. He initially dismissed the feeling as misplaced memory, thinking it would fade away with time. But it never did. Nibelheim's starlit sky looked familiar and each morning Sephiroth woke up in his bed half expecting to see a group of masked doctors surround him in a circle; their unwavering glassed eyes set on him.

Strangely enough, his father _also_ seemed acquainted with their gaudy surroundings. Dr. Hojo had located a hidden passage that led deeper into the mansion not long after they'd settled in, uncovering the underground crypts and an abandoned library. While his father insisted it was a stroke of luck on his part, Sephiroth believed otherwise. Either fate brought them to this manor or they'd been here before.

Access to the library was forbidden. That place had become Father's den where he conducted his research and experiments. Sephiroth rarely stepped foot in it, save for the times he had to lure a specimen down there. On the other hand, he was allowed frequent visits to the crypts. He enjoyed its vast space, seclusion, and quietness. Only in the presence of death did he find peace. Barney resided there as well.

Sephiroth's beloved pet grew roughly to fifteen-feet-tall over the years. The young Behemoth had many more feet to grow into before reaching its full potential. By then, Sephiroth wondered if the crypts would be high enough to house his furry companion. Gaia help them all once Barney reached adulthood and snored or roared. The city folks would think Nibelheim got hit with an earthquake.

Three loud knocks came from the door in slow intervals. The clock above the bed read thirty minutes passed the hour. Sephiroth already suspected who was at the other side of his door this early in the morning. Wearing only navy colored sleep pants with a stringed waistband, he padded barefooted to his entry. He didn't bother turning down his music, leaving the vocalist to wail in the background as he opened the door.

A pale-faced lanky man stood before him. Threads stuck out of his vintage, two-piece black suit; the neck bow loosely made. Strands of strawberry blond hair fell below his bald shiny scalp. Somehow, the elongated shape of his head proportionately matched his imposing eight-foot height.

"Angel Face… Breakfast… Served…" Noppo announced. His voice sounded deeper than a trombone's lowest note.

Leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed, Sephiroth wrinkled his nose and looked up at the butler. A mansion this large required extra hands to tend to it. As financially well off as they were, though, Father was too cheap and too paranoid to hire certified servants. He sought help elsewhere.

From six feet under.

Sephiroth had smelled Noppo way before he reached the second floor of the mansion. Corpses raised from the dead due to the ambitions of a restless scientist tended to smell like spoiled milk and shit stewing in the heat for too long. Sephiroth's acute senses couldn't bear the stench any longer. He grabbed a bottle of cologne from a nearby nightstand and sprayed it all over his room to get rid of the offending odor. Afterward, he looked at Noppo again. Sephiroth sprayed him down too.

"Leave or I'll bury you – _again_ ," he ordered.

As if bored by the threat, the butler slowly nodded. He shifted left and lumbered away. The wooden flood creaked under his massive weight.

Even after Noppo reached the other side of the manor, Sephiroth grimaced at the traces of his presence in the air. Every morning started out like this. No matter how many times he complained about it to his father, the man reminded him that good help was hard to find. Even when it came from a cemetery.

Shutting the door, Sephiroth trekked across his bedroom. Unlike his father, who could fill an empty room with pointless clutter in less than a day, the boy was a neat freak. Flat surfaces stayed spotless. Thousands of alphabetical-ordered books remained in prime condition inside their rows of bookshelves. Candles at a makeshift altar surrounded a porcelain figure in a perfect circle, each evenly spaced apart. Instead of the usual musky odor that dominated the mansion, vanilla incense settled across his spacious space. Sephiroth's want for perfection earned him many scoffs from his father. This obsession toward the details wasn't limited to his environment either. It extended to his physical well-being as well.

Sephiroth sat in front of a white vanity mirror sculpted with floral designs. Music continued to play around him while he took sections of his hair and carefully ran them with a brush. His arms and hands moved with a fluid non-stop motion.

Years of dedication and patience – coupled with countless bottles of overpriced shampoo and conditioner – resulted in long locks of silver hair that reached beyond the lower back. For Sephiroth, its impressive length reflected the traditional Wutai hair practices of undefeated swordsmen. It served as a testament to his sense of discipline and skill. Keeping up with appearances meant everything to Sephiroth. It was the only area in his otherwise chaotic life that he could exert _some_ control.

The young man stared at his image on the mirror while he brushed his hair. He just turned seventeen last month. With well-proportioned sharply defined features, smooth alabaster skin, and illuminating green eyes, Sephiroth hadn't gotten rid of his _pretty boy_ looks like he'd hoped. Even with abdominal muscles and a well-defined torso structure, his slender teenaged frame and haunting face made him too beautiful to be just _a man_. He appeared as something else altogether.

 _Angel Face_. That was his designated nickname here.

Setting his brush down, Sephiroth applied clear balm on his blushed lips next. He tilted his head to one side. A long bang fell over his lime-green eye. Against the mirror's lighting, he took on a feminine appearance; his milk-white aura radiated. Sephiroth suspected his looks had something to do with Mother's genetic legacy. Dr. Hojo arrived at a similar conclusion.

His pheromones and physical splendor… Father theorized they acted as evolution-based designs intended to attract _prey_ , much similar to an Orchid Mantis' methods. Sephiroth's heavenly light drew in plentiful _moths_. It certainly made it easy to fulfill Dr. Hojo's never-ending requests. Whereas he had previously depended on his youthful innocence as a child, his older self could attract potential specimens with just the sound of his low velvet voice.

Unfortunately, this overwhelming allure came at a cost too. It often compromised their personal situation. Any time Sephiroth showed his face to the public he garnered unwanted attention to himself. After all, no one had eyes like his. No one had natural silver hair like him. And no one possessed a ghostly beauty as he did. In short, he stuck out. Big time. His very presence conveyed that of a lily-white flower rising above a sea of blackness. It made identifying his profile to the local authorities all too easy.

Rising from his vanity seat, Sephiroth approached the bed where today's attire was already laid out. Gray trousers. A white buttoned blouse. And a dark navy jacket with his school's emblem attached. Sephiroth added his own personal touch with a leather beaded choker he got during his time in Cosmo Canyon. Once clothed in his school's mandatory uniform, he slipped into a duster coat with a hood.

A fabricated medical skin condition – an allergic reaction to sunlight – granted him permission to wear the hooded jacket at all times in school. This allowed the beautiful seventeen-year-old boy to conceal himself from the world as much as possible to maintain his anonymity. He revealed his face only to specimens he needed to acquire for Father. In many ways, Sephiroth felt trapped in his own body.

Cleansing that depressing thought from his mind, the teen headed for the altar at the corner of his chamber. He made sure to turn off his music. Instantly, silence engulfed the space.

Sephiroth lowered himself on a mat. Masamune hung high above the altar; its metal gleamed against the fire of lit candles. Under the long blade appeared a slender statue with no face. _Gaia_. Ebony covered half of its effeminate body while the other half stayed white. It cradled a crystal orb in its arms.

In his worldly travels, Sephiroth had come across the religion of the Ancients and took a keen interest in it. It was a dying, obscure faith. So much of its scripture remained locked away at the Temple of the Ancients. Replaced by the popular images of modern self-made commercial gods, even his own father deemed the _Word of Gaia_ sentimental gibberish bound for extinction. The few who did follow its scriptures, however, believed the Lifestream consisted of negative and positive energies. It flowed within each individual. Their path was dictated by how much negative or positive dominated them. Followers of Gaia also perceived the Planet as a maternal spirit; neither malevolent nor benevolent.

It was this latter aspect of the religion that appealed to Sephiroth the most. Sitting before the porcelain figure, the teenager knew his interest in the Word of Gaia largely came from an absent mother. He likened the idea that the world saw him as a son. The Planet was connected to him. Naturally, Dr. Hojo berated him for this, seeing his religious conversion as a weakness on his part. Sephiroth did not care. It gave him peace of mind whenever he had to snuff out someone's light.

Silver hair spilled over his face as he bowed his head. Clasping his hands together, he whispered the morning customary words to the statue that embodied white and black. Then he rose off the mat at full height and blew out each of the ten candles that represented an emanation.

Having completed his morning routine, Sephiroth grabbed his school bag and fully charged PHS. He finally left his bedroom to join his father downstairs for breakfast.

* * *

Sephiroth traveled down a long hallway flanked by stripe-patterned walls. Paintings of various subjects hung on them. The art had already been there prior to their arrival. One painting in particular revealed the portrait of a broody, dark man. He always provoked a sense of familiarity in Sephiroth. The name _Grimoire_ appeared stenciled across a metal plate attached to the frame's bottom.

There was something about that man's crimson eyes…

Sephiroth's footsteps echoed across the vast space as he made his way to the mansion's main stairway. There, he encountered Mr. Hangman. This undead servant appeared right outside one of the three elongated paneled windows that overlooked the foyer. Hanging with a noose around his neck, the rope creaked back and forth while he snipped overgrown vines with a forged bypass lopper. From his elevated position, Mr. Hangman noticed the handsome young man inside the mansion and waved at him. He moved his hand in a slow mechanical manner.

Sephiroth stared at the eerie sight with half-lidded eyes. He hadn't known a moment of normalcy in his life. The people who filled his world were as bizarre as he was. Like so many teenagers, Sephiroth wanted to be _normal_. He wanted a _normal_ appearance to match a _normal_ lifestyle with a _normal_ family. Instead, his life consisted of various oddities that ranged between the strange to the stranger.

Even at school it was no different. He was treated as an anomaly. Numerous students assumed he worshipped Diablo and drank the blood of innocents based on his fabricated skin reaction to light and tall dark appearance. Some of these dullards demanded to know if he _sparkled_ – whatever the hell that meant. The truth would've offended them more though. While Sephiroth did not worship Diablo or drink the blood of innocents, he _did_ believe in space aliens and his father _did_ regularly interact with the dead. Sephiroth's only friend was also a Behemoth that fed on human remains from failed experiments.

So yes… perhaps there was _some_ validity to their accusations and fears.

At the other side of the window, Mr. Hangman returned to his gardening duties while Sephiroth continued down the flight of stairs. He turned to the direction of the dining room and entered it.

On his arrival, he heard only the quiet sounds of a grandfather clock _tick-tock_. The air felt heavy here. Darkness dominated the interior space; velvet curtains still drawn. They blocked out the morning sun. What little light remained came from a chandelier's lit candles. Its massive size hung from the center of the ceiling. As with the other rooms, many paintings decorated the walls. They contained mostly landscapes. One showed Mt. Nibel, a place that often haunted Sephiroth's dreams.

The teen found his father seated at the end of a ridiculously long table. Dr. Hojo didn't bother to acknowledge his arrival. He busied himself with his notes while a young crimson-haired maid served him hot tea. The girl's red eyes gleamed when she looked up. A slow grin spread across her face.

"Good morning, Angel Face. Sleep _well_?"

Amidst her thick accent, there emerged a dark snarky tone in her voice. Sephiroth didn't bother with a response. Rather, he approached the dining room table and took a seat straight across his father. The maid set a bowl of green-colored soup in front of him. He inspected its contents with a spoon.

"Doubt my food, do you?" the maid demanded to know.

"I doubt your cooking skills as much as your sanity, Rosso." Sephiroth answered back. He checked his soup again, looking for any razors or nails she might've left for him.

Rosso the Crimson was a terrible maid. The thirteen-year-old girl couldn't cook. She couldn't clean. And she couldn't organize. She could, however, effectively make things scream and bleed.

The young girl landed the job of house maid for the sole purpose of staying out of trouble, proving too volatile for this world. The frilly black-and-white uniform she wore always stained with blood by the end of the day, either from some unfortunate creature that took her fancy or a hunt she pursued on behalf of Dr. Hojo. It was difficult to keep Rosso in check whenever the blood thirst got the best of her though. Sephiroth knew this since the day he brought her home with him.

Five years ago, Dr. Hojo learned of Shinra's newest branch, _Deepground_ , after hacking into their data banks. The electric power company had spawned a new group of super soldiers, the _Tsviets_ , based off their primary SOLDIER program. They resided underground for social conditioning purposes and training; even members from SOLDIER were unaware of them. Perceiving them as a potential threat, Dr. Hojo sent his son to infiltrate Mako Reactor 0 in Midgar to retrieve their blood samples for analysis. Sephiroth succeeded without notice until he came to head with Rosso the Crimson during his mission.

Only eight at the time, the child's thirst for blood matched that of a starved canine's. Their fight had been… _intense_. Against his better judgement, Sephiroth didn't eliminate her. Rather, he returned home with blood samples and an unconscious girl in tow. Admittedly, it bothered him to learn he hadn't been the only child prodigy Shinra pursued. He saw a bit of himself in Rosso and of the fate that could've been his had his father not rescued him. Sephiroth wanted to help her.

Unfortunately, the years raised in Deepground's facility warped Rosso's mind. What remained of her mental state was a relentless pursuit to paint the world in shades of red. Not a day went by that she didn't tear something apart. During their spars together, Rosso fought with the intent to _mark_ Sephiroth with her duel-blade weapon. Rosso had yet to succeed though. Sephiroth proved too fast, too strong, and too skilled for the likes of her. Still, this didn't demoralize or dissuade her. His non-stop winning streak only fueled the girl's resolve. It was why she stayed in their company for so long instead of run away. Rosso wanted Sephiroth engulfed in red.

Next to him, the girl poured hot tea into his cup. That crooked smile from before hadn't left Rosso's face. Sephiroth knew it had something to do with last night: she'd snuck into his room again.

Now in her early teens, Rosso's behavior had taken an odd turn over the past few months. Sephiroth found himself waking up in the middle of the night only to see her standing next to his bed – watching him with lips slightly parted, red eyes intense, and face flushed. The most alerting aspect of these late-night encounters though came from the blood that appeared on his fingertips and lips. It didn't belong to him. Its copper scent smelled very potent, almost fishy. Something about the blood and the fire in Rosso's eyes struck him as curious.

Across the table, Dr. Hojo finally looked up from his notes. He noticed his son hadn't touched his breakfast and lifted his eye glasses with a finger. "Are you going to ingest your breakfast any time this century, hm, boy? Or would you rather sit there and become a permanent house fixture?"

Sephiroth resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the sharp comments directed his way. He spared a glance at his father.

Today was a Monday. Dr. Hojo wore that cheap, two-piece brown suit that constantly attracted lint and smelled like ashes. Its shade of brown looked terrible against the man's pasty-white complexion. Of course, his father needed that stupid suit for his weekly day job.

In Nibelheim City, Dr. Hojo had inherited the identity of Dr. Hawthorne, a well-respected gynecologist from Bone Village who enjoyed long walks at the beach and randomly volunteered at the pet center. His son was Severus Hawthorne, a student attending Nibel Academy; an all-boys private high school. He boasted a 10.2 GPA and dreamt of becoming a mortician.

A _mortician_.

Dr. Hojo was clearly out of touch with the times since that bit was _his_ idea. His own choice of occupation also sounded equally absurd; he saw twice the amount of pussy Sephiroth ever had. The teen wondered if his father suffered from some mid-life crisis. Then again, Dr. Hojo had no choice; a lucrative profession like that enabled him to search for specific blood types in the Nibel area without raising any flags. Even the Turks would never think to find one of the world's most wanted men in a gynecologist's office.

"Today is your first day of your final year, boy," started Father again from the other end of the table. He leaned forward in his chair. "Consume your nutrients this instant so that you're not late for it. I'll not deal with this _teenage-angst_ – or whatever nonsense you juveniles call it – anymore."

 _Teenage-angst?_ Sephiroth suppressed a chuckle, amused at how funny and ignorant his father could be at times. The teen stirred his soup again. Making a face, he couldn't help but compare it to green colored diarrhea. Sephiroth held his breath and sipped up the lukewarm liquid from his spoon. It tasted bland and too thick.

Rosso really was a terrible cook.

"I won't be home until ten," notified his father later. He chewed on burnt toast bread and ordered, "Acquire a specimen for me before my return; a healthy male that's somewhere between his teens to early twenties, preferably."

Keeping his attention on the bowl in front of him, Sephiroth already knew what that meant. His thick lashes lowered and concealed the mako light in his green-glazed eyes. He forced another spoonful of soup into his mouth to avoid discussing this matter further.

"I can assist," offered Rosso as she wandered back to Dr. Hojo's side of the table. She picked up several abandoned dishware and utensils, putting them on a tray.

A low noise emitted from Dr. Hojo's throat. He shook his head. "I need the specimen _alive_ this time, girl. Whenever I assign you this task they arrive as mangled messes; too ruined to make use of them."

"Ah, but you cannot deny how marvelous they look, Professor." The teen giggled. "They're like pieces of art. Crimson on crimson. Perhaps I should take up taxidermy to preserve their beauty…"

"Perhaps you should exercise self-restraint instead, girl."

Rosso frowned.

Dr. Hojo wiped the bread crust off his mouth with a napkin. "We've gone three years here in Nibelheim City without attracting unwanted attention from the authorities and locals. I intend on keeping it that way. Now excuse yourself from my presence, girl. Your rubbish talk is giving me a headache."

Rosso's red eyes brightened within the darkness of the room. Her hand gripped a butter knife.

Crossing his arms now, Dr. Hojo observed the utensil in her possession. He knew the girl could be lethal even with a dulled object; she'd done worse with a spoon before. Even so, he didn't flinch and remarked in a low monotone voice, "If you're so inclined to skin something alive, girl, then let it be the squirrels in the attic. They've run amuck again."

Tight-lipped, Rosso did an about-face and walked out of the dining room with her tray.

Any other man would've had his head chopped off by now. The former Tsviet showed no mercy toward those that spoke above her. Dr. Hojo proved to be the exception, however. Not only did the good doctor have the strongest and most skilled warrior as his personal bodyguard, but he also knew the vulnerabilities of a mako-enhanced soldier like her. He could end Rosso's life with the single prick of a needle. The syringes Dr. Hojo discretely kept on his person at all times conveyed many colors of the rainbow. Depending on what mood he felt, he could use the color that inflicted the most pain.

Sephiroth suspected these reasons kept Rosso from making a stupid move against his father. Like him, the young Tsviet understood the consequences of such ill-advised actions. Among the powerful beasts and monsters that resided in this mansion, the one that dominated above them all was a non-enhanced man who regularly wore loafers and took his tea with extra sugar.

As soon as Rosso left, Dr. Hojo sipped his hot beverage and directed his attention back to his son. "This is a pivotal year for us, boy. It marks the time for retribution."

Sephiroth glanced up from his bowl of soup. He noticed how the candles' light illuminated Dr. Hojo's dark eyes. They looked on fire.

"Alas, I've yet to perfect the tool needed to fulfill our objective." His father's jaw visibly reset itself. Appearing irritated now, Dr. Hojo flipped through the pages of his notebook and muttered, "I am close, so _very_ close. But something is amiss. All of my specimens crumble too easily; their bodies reject the gift I bestow upon them."

"Cellular degradation?" guessed Sephiroth.

"At a phenomenal level, boy," confirmed Dr. Hojo with a nod. "Either more modifications are needed in my encoding or I require a special kind of specimen; one that can endure the gift long enough for me to properly assess the issue and create a fruitful blueprint. Regardless, this must be resolved within the year, before the Prince travels to his kingdom and moves beyond our reach."

The Prince. Sephiroth moved to Nibelheim City and specifically enrolled in Nibel Academy for the Prince.

Dr. Hojo closed his notebook and sat straighter in his chair. "We need to double our efforts, boy, and run through all the local HLA listings in search of ideal specimens again. In the meantime, monitor the Prince's actions and determine his daily routines this year. Get close to him if possible. Befriend him."

"Doubtful, Father," Sephiroth replied with a low scoff. "He perceives me as a rival. Apparently, the Prince is not content with being a point behind _the Goth freak_ – as he so eloquently described me once. I surmise he's worried that I will take away his precious valedictorian position from him."

Dr. Hojo grinned. "Then do so. Put yourself in his path, boy. Succeed where he does not. Compete in areas where he does. Let him direct all of his frustration and attention on you; yet do this subtly so as not to draw _too_ much attention."

Discovering a strand of red hair in his soup, Sephiroth put his spoon down. His hands intertwined together as he placed them under his chin while he contemplated on his father's proposal.

Fighting for the valedictorian spot would inevitably put him _at_ the center of attention. Aggravating the Prince also came with great risks. Classmates who had offended the boy, from harmless jokes to looking a certain way, faced public scrutiny or got expelled. The spoiled Prince obviously enjoyed his high social status and the clout he carried from it; he used it to put people in their place.

Having attended classes with the Prince for three years, Sephiroth managed to maintain his distance but kept a watchful eye on him. They were strangers for the most part; neither had formally introduced himself to the other. Sephiroth knew the Prince held him in low regard due to his dark appearance, as did many others in school. That all changed prior to summer break though. _The Goth freak's_ 10.2 trumped the Prince's 10.1. This unexpected news didn't bold well for the Prince. Not one bit.

From what Sephiroth gathered, the Prince took great measures to win, often resorting to dirty tactics to get the upper hand. Once, he slept with a rival's girlfriend and posted the evidence online to prove his dominance. On another occasion, he spread a nasty rumor when an instructor threatened detention; that instructor got arrested. And he manipulated key players in the basketball team to take his revenge on its coach. The prince's shallow nature, sharp looks, and high upbringing gave him the impression the world belonged to him. It made a confrontation between them inevitable this new school year.

Unfortunately for the Prince, Sephiroth didn't like to lose either.

"The relationship between rivals can be more intense and intimate than that of lovers," Dr. Hojo revealed as he drew his cup of tea close to his lips again. The mouth contorted and stretched out. "The greatest stories revolve around two forces of nature clashing together. We can use this rivalry to our advantage, boy. Keep the Prince close to you; distract him while I finalize my work."

Dr. Hojo drank his tea. Nodding in silence, Sephiroth noted the time when the grandfather clock suddenly chimed. During its consecutive strikes, he stood up from his chair and announced, "It is time for me to depart, Father."

"On your way then, boy. Comply with the curriculum's demands and don't disappoint me. I want a full status report upon my return, along with the specimen I've requested."

"Of course, Father." Leaving his soup unfinished, Sephiroth turned away and left the dining room. He grabbed his PHS and school bag along the way out.

* * *

Outside, the morning clouds cluttered the sky while a slight breeze settled in. A black vintage four-door model already waited for Sephiroth at the large circular driveway. There, a short squatty male with large hands, thick brows, and a wild patch of brown hair on top of his head leaned against a door. He smoked a cigarette but quickly killed it with the heel of his boot when he noticed the young man emerge from the mansion. The driver showcased a giant smile on his face, revealing yellow crooked teeth.

Unlike Noppo, Semusi appeared younger in age, in better condition, and didn't smell like rotten eggs. The stocky man had only been in the early stages of decay when Dr. Hojo dug him up. This didn't make him any more tolerable though.

"Ah, Angel Face," Semusi greeted Sephiroth. He opened the back door for him. "Good morning, Angel Face. Sleep well, Angel Face? Have any fun dreams, Angel Face? I like the wet ones, Angel Face. I used to have those all the time when I was alive, heh heh heh. Do you get them a lot too, Angel Face? I bet you do, naughty boy, heh heh heh…"

Mouth pursed, Sephiroth slipped into the back seat and placed his leather bag beside him. He crossed one long leg over the other. Semusi closed the door after him before hurrying to the driver's side. His waddle-like walk reminded Sephiroth of a penguin's. As soon as Semusi got behind the wheel, he started up the engine. A cloud of dark smoke sputtered out from the car's tailpipe. Semusi ran over a dying flower bush as they pulled out of the curved driveway.

"A lovely morning, isn't it, Angel Face?" Semusi described as he glanced back at Sephiroth through his rearview mirror. His crossed black eyes locked onto the teen. "Angel Face, did you pack lunch today? Need Gil, Angel Face? A beautiful boy like you needs to stay in tip-top shape. You'll conquer the planet someday, Angel Face, heh heh heh…"

Sephiroth flipped open his PHS. He hoped Semusi would take the hint and shut up. The driver didn't. While Semusi talked about morning wood, Sephiroth took that opportunity to check his social media.

Granted, he didn't care for the memes, selfies, and senseless garbage that regularly circulated on his feed. His _InnerCircle_ online page possessed the bare minimum of photos and status updates. Aside from a need to retain his true identity from outsiders, Sephiroth valued his privacy. He didn't desire to post his emotions and thoughts to the world. Nor did he want to engage in idle chitchat. Nevertheless, the digital pathway provided him the ability to monitor certain individuals he followed, notably the Prince.

Sephiroth clicked on his target's InnerCircle page. The image of a young man projected back to him on the portable device. His short blond hair was slicked to one side. In his profile photo he wore a well-tailored white suit and a black undershirt. No surprise, the Prince had already posted a status update.

 **Rufus Shinra:** _A new school year. New opportunities await us all. Make it count._

 _Reno Sinclair, Rude, and 657 others LIKE this post._

Short and to the point; Sephiroth expected nothing less from the Prince of Midgar. Having been elected as the senior-class president of Nibel Academy, Rufus Shinra was scheduled to give a speech during today's orientation to start off the new school year. Countless students hailed the young ambitious man in high regard. He was destined to follow in his father's footsteps; his father being President Shinra of Shinra Incorporation. This made Rufus a valuable asset.

And the key to bringing down the Company.

Sephiroth and his father had this year to fulfill their objective. After graduation, Rufus would return to Midgar City to take his rightful place as Vice President of the Company. He'd be surrounded by SOLDIER and Turks twenty-four seven. Getting close to him by then would prove problematic if not next to impossible. Sephiroth had been assigned to observe the prodigal boy's activities and events until his father completed the final stage of his plans.

Ironically, Rufus kept an eye on _him_ too. Few people followed Sephiroth's InnerCircle page. Those who did either mistook him for a Goth boy, a demon worshipper, or a vampire. He didn't care. Having followers of any kind created the illusion he was a _sociable_ guy and not someone quietly scheming to dismantle a renowned powerhouse corporation with global-wide influence. Thus, when Rufus Shinra made an InnerCircle friend request out of the blue this past summer, Sephiroth accepted it. He already knew the boy's intentions and saw this as a good opportunity to keep him within arm reach.

The sound of screeching tires pulled Sephiroth away from his PHS. His eyes narrowed at the driver.

Semusi drove at sixty-miles-per hour down a forty road; it led straight into the city. The car's nonstop chirping sounds and hissing metal made Sephiroth wince. This car was long overdue for a maintenance check. Unfortunately, his father was too cheap to hire someone to diagnose and fix the problems.

"Looks like it might rain today, Angel Face," informed Semusi, "Did you bring an umbrella, Angel Face? I bet you're nervous about today, Angel Face. It's your final year, Angel Face. Have you thought about what you want to do after you graduate, Angel Face? Go to the University, Angel Face? Party hard and score with lots of bunnies, Angel Face? I'd score with lots of bunnies if I were you, heh heh heh…"

The more Semusi talked the more Sephiroth wanted to throw himself out of the car. At this high speed, it would be an immediate painless death; far more merciful than hearing the rest of the driver's incoherent nonsense. The situation only worsened once they reached the city's downtown area. Semusi weaved in and out of traffic like a drug-induced bumblebee and ran the red lights. At one point, Sephiroth looked out his window and watched bystanders scatter.

"Angel Face, am I on a one-way?" Semusi asked, confused by the screams and honking.

"Buffoon, you're on the sidewalk…"

"Ah. That explains it, Angel Face."

Sephiroth rolled his eyes and snapped his PHS shut.

"Y' know, this city is laid out funny, Angel Face."

"Not if you follow directions and abide by the road rules. Which you clearly aren't. Shall I take over?"

"Of course not, Angel Face. I'm the designated driver, Angel Face. You have no driver license anyway. Sit back and relax, Angel Face. Enjoy the ride."

Sephiroth crossed his arms instead.

The silver-haired teenager couldn't wait to get his driver's license this year. He had to put that matter on hold due to the constant moving and many tasks assigned to him by Dr. Hojo. While his father didn't see it as a priority, Sephiroth did. He wanted to venture to places of his own accord and at his own time. He also wanted to drive himself to school without being at the mercy of an unstable fiendish man.

"Did you know Nibelheim used to be small with lots of grass and lots of trees and lots of Nibel wolves, Angel Face?" continued Semusi. "I think at one point Shinra employees used to live here for its peace and quiet. This place got too big for its own good, Angel Face. But the women here are really hot. One time, I scored with a woman with one leg, Angel Face. She spread that leg wide and I was able to…"

"You're about to run over a bicyclist, Semusi," Sephiroth quietly pointed out.

"Oopsie."

They swerved left.

Eventually, a massive semi-circular shaped complex came into view. It was surrounded by a ten-foot-tall wall made of red brick. Flights of stairs stretched across the main entrance, leading up to a long pathway. It directed clusters of boys donned in similar navy-colored suits to the building's entry doors. The words, _Nibel Academy_ , ran along the side of a massive bronze-made statue. It took on the shape of an iconic wolf known as the Fenrir; their school's mascot.

Having transferred to many schools a great number of times, Sephiroth was surprised he managed to make it into his senior year at all, let alone, attend the same school for three consecutive years. He took advanced classes to catch up, which accounted for his extremely high GPA; the typical score was 5. Had he completed his education without interruptions, he would've graduated with full honors by the age of ten. Alas, his hectic lifestyle introduced various pit stops and drawbacks.

"Drop me off here," Sephiroth told Semusi once they reached the school's parking lot.

The car's brakes squeaked loudly as it came to a slow, grinding halt. Sephiroth pulled the hood of his duster coat over his head, making sure to tuck in any loose strands of silver hair. Then he got out of the mobile death trap.

Semusi called to him one more time but Sephiroth mentally blocked out his words. Even when something at the back of his mind started to nag at him, declaring something amiss, he continued to walk away to get some open air. He felt the stress of the car ride finally drain from him. Taking a moment to roll his tensed shoulders, Sephiroth breathed out.

Already, the first bell from the school's clock tower struck. It indicated fifteen minutes before class started. Looking across the campus, Sephiroth found that many things hadn't changed since the last time he set foot here before the summer break. Warm-colored trees flanked both sides of the concrete path that led to the school. Their thick branches stretched toward each other and created an arc way. Sephiroth briefly watched their red and orange leaves scatter and dance in the air. Plenty of benches offered students a chance to take in the natural setting here. He often occupied one of those benches during lunchtime; alone and in the shadow of a tree.

Up ahead, the walkway expanded and showcased an eight-foot-high water fountain. It served as a popular hotspot before and after school. Tons of students gathered at this area for outdoor events and get-togethers. Even now, tables were being set up by various organizations, each ready to recruit new members this year. Among the decently sized crowd, Sephiroth recognized a good number of faces.

Biggs and Wedge… One tall and lanky, the other chubby and short, those two never left each other's side. They busied themselves with PHS games and talks of movies, comics, and conventions. Consequently, they'd been dubbed as _the Rejects_ and became the target of many ill pranks and jokes. It wasn't any of Sephiroth's business to care or intervene. The weak had no place in this world anyway. But on certain days their enduring optimism and bond did get under his skin. To see them so _oblivious_ and so happy despite being on the receiving end of some malicious word or act… Sephiroth couldn't tell whether he pitied or admired them.

Not far from those two stood Kotch and Scotch. This unruly pair spent a good chunk of their time causing trouble, often initiating fights and creating rumors for pure entertainment. Scotch sported a cocky attitude and loud mouth while Kotch mostly followed his lead and offered support. Sephiroth didn't see them as a threat, so much as a nuisance. On occasion, they confronted him and called him a _freak_ just to inspire a reaction out of him. How pitiful.

As Sephiroth's eyes strayed from one familiar face to another, he instantly noted the one that drew in a large crowd around him.

Outside of Rufus Shinra, few students stood out from the entire flock of Nibel Academy. Even fewer garnered much respect and affection from both the lower and upper classmen. And yet, that became the case for Gongaga-born Zackary Fair. A popular student entering his senior year as well, many claimed this raven-haired youth could brighten up anyone's cloudy day. A large group of boys surrounded him now solely to bask in his light, including his close friends, Essai and Sebastian.

" _You ready to own that trophy this year?_ " Sephiroth overheard Essai say to the highly popular boy.

" _Damn right_." Zack slammed a fist into his opened hand and proclaimed, " _We're taking it this year, boys. Shinra Academy ain't got nothing on us, so saddle up and get ready to roll._ "

"Fuckin' A," Essai concurred with a nod.

The Captain of the Kendo team, Zack was as skilled as he was handsome. He earned top marks and yearly competed against Shinra's best boys during the tournaments. His active lifestyle consequently resulted in a well-cut figure; he was thoroughly toned but not ridiculously ripped.

An instant favorite among many, Sephiroth couldn't recall anyone bear a grudge against Zack for long. He challenged naysayers and disgruntled folks alike to a game of squats in an effort to diffuse any negative attitudes. As silly as that sounded it always worked. Even Rufus found him tolerable and endearing despite being threatened by his immense popularity.

At the fountain area, Zack laughed and showcased perfect white teeth when Sebastian made a joke. The morning sun's light bounced off his bright blue eyes while he ran a hand through his choppy-cut hair. It was hard to deny Zack Fair. His smooth-faced features, energy, and good-natured attitude attracted many to him. Plenty of students either wanted him or wanted to be _like_ him. He could've dated anyone; boy or girl in his case. Fate had him choose a boy that peaked Sephiroth's own curiosity.

It didn't take long for this boy to appear. The loud throttle of a distant motorbike prompted Sephiroth to turn left. He saw a rider come down a road, smoothly maneuvering around two cars. His loosely worn tie and opened navy jacket flapped in the air. The visor of a gloss-black helmet covered and shielded his face. He slowed down once he reached the school's zone, turning at the parking lot. His bike came to a full stop under a tree. The rider shut off the engine. As soon as he dismounted his metal beast, he removed the helmet.

Locks of platinum-blond hair spilled out. It appeared messy and wild; a giant cluster of sharp cuts here, there, and everywhere. The unkempt hair spoke volumes about the boy known as Cloud Strife.

He was a junior and a true Nibel native, residing at Old Town and possessing a subtle rural accent. Sephiroth first encountered him when he had transferred to Nibel Academy three years ago; a sophomore at the time. It was Cloud's water-clear eyes and hair that initially caught his attention.

The years had been rough for the Nibel boy. Though he kept to himself and rarely spoke, he lived up to his last name. Written up on multiple occasions for fights, Cloud developed a bad reputation as a violent youth; a live grenade ready to go off. It took just a word or odd look his way to send him swinging hard and fast with a fist. However, most of the altercations transpired because either someone pushed his buttons or they offended a close associate of his. He had little patience or tolerance for it. Once, Scotch thought he'd be bold enough to compare Strife's hair to a _Chocobo's ass_.

The fool ended up in the nurse's office with a broken arm and concussion.

Fishing out his PHS from a back pocket, Cloud Strife climbed the steps and drew closer. It was then that Sephiroth realized he'd been standing in the middle of the pathway for too long. Warmth settled across his face and ears though not by the morning sun. He found himself standing straighter and sucking in air.

Motionless, Sephiroth noticed Cloud's slight strut. His dirtied boots. An undone button. The Fenrir charm attached to his PHS. And the broken zipper on his backpack. Strife walked passed him seconds later, only briefly acknowledging him with a nod before setting his eyes back to his PHS. The boy headed for the water fountain area without saying a word.

For some reason, Cloud Strife fascinated Sephiroth. He didn't know why. Their encounters always began and ended this way: they never spoke to each other and exchanged only a few casual glances. Perhaps his interest came from the way Cloud held his head high whenever someone expected him to back down. Or maybe it stemmed from his reckless abandonment. Whereas Sephiroth preferred to calculate his options before committing to action during a dispute, Strife threw himself at the center of battle head-first. He swiftly intervened whenever some browbeater tormented Biggs or Wedge, completely indifferent to the bruises and write-ups he'd receive in return.

It took Sephiroth awhile to understand the funny thoughts and sensations he experienced whenever Cloud was within sight. Even then, he doubted his conclusion; refused to accept it. He thought himself above such petty, silly notions. Irrational feelings were the source to irrational actions, his father once warned him. And yet, that bundle of nerves at the pit of his stomach tightened whenever Cloud randomly crossed his path. It was then Sephiroth had to face an uncomfortable, unbearable truth.

He was intrigued with Cloud Strife.

Very intrigued.

 _Extremely_ intrigued.

Sephiroth was intrigued enough to follow Zack's InnerCircle page in the hopes of seeing Cloud's comments and pictures – the unruly boy hadn't accepted his friend request. He was intrigued enough to attend the Kendo competition last year where Nibel Academy lost, yet, Cloud placed fourth place, right behind Zack's third rank. He was intrigued enough to know Cloud worked part-time as a delivery boy for Mog's Deli Shop to help his single-mother pay her medical bills. He was intrigued enough to order a sandwich from that shop even when he wasn't hungry. And he was intrigued enough to count the days until school started again for more encounters between them.

 _Intrigue_ likely wasn't the right word. Had Sephiroth been more honest with himself, he'd employ another word that perfectly described what he felt each time he saw a glimpse of wild blond hair in the crowd. He refused to speak the word aloud though. It would officially confirm what he knew all along and outrage his father if he ever discovered what he secretly coveted.

Taking a few steps forward, Sephiroth kept his eyes on Cloud. He observed him approach the fountain area. The blond-haired youth broke through Zack's crowd and shoved his PHS back into a pocket. Zack noticed him too. They headed for the fountain's stone-made ledge and sat down together. Words were exchanged; few smiles. Cloud later slid his hand at the back of Zack's head.

Their faces met in a slow, open-mouthed kiss.

It wasn't a surprise, really. The most popular, likeable student in school with the most notorious, reclusive one seemed to verify that opposites truly did attract, even with their one-year difference. A rumor alleged that Cloud Strife initially attended Nibelheim High School at Old Town and had been in a long-term relationship with a girl there. Things got complicated when he got kicked out for disciplinary action and transferred mid-year to Nibel Academy. The two broke up once Zack entered the picture.

Regardless of the hearsay, Cloud and Zack had been together for several years now. Multiple students already declared them as the couple 'Most Likely to Stay Together' for the class yearbook. As Zack leaned forward and followed the path of Cloud's neck with his mouth, Essai's voice shot through.

" _Get a room, you two,"_ he yelled with a laugh.

Sebastian whistled next. He thrust his hips forward in a suggesting manner.

" _Shut up_ …" came Cloud's curt response; voice low and quiet. He turned away to kiss Zack again.

Watching them together, their lips sliding from side to side, Sephiroth felt an urge to enter the school and put this scene behind him. This hadn't been the first time he encountered them make out anyway.

Their actions often escalated in places where they thought no one occupied or noticed. Sephiroth recalled the time he heard them in the restroom during lunchtime. Under the stall, two pairs of feet faced the same direction. Pants and unclasped buckles collected around the ankles. That rough sound of bare flesh being rhythmically slapped together echoed along with soft grunts, pants, and lust-filled words from behind the locked door. Sephiroth intentionally flushed a urinal to make them aware they weren't alone. He took some delight in watching them frantically pick up their pants.

The sound of excited voices finally drew Sephiroth's eyes away from the lip-locked pair. By now, an elegant six-door vehicle had pulled up to the school's parking lot. It represented the latest model from Shinra's automobile line and showcased a glossy silver surface with tinted windows. A white-clad driver stepped out. As soon as the servant opened a door at the rear end, a boy with slick blond hair emerged.

The Prince of Midgar surveyed his immediate environment with half-closed eyes and a thin-lipped expression on his face. His iron-pressed uniform consisted of the standard jacket in addition to a navy buttoned vest and teal-colored tie. Shoving both hands into his jacket's pockets, he shifted his weight to one leg. Rufus Shinra looked bored.

It didn't take long for two boys to join him and flank his sides. On Rufus' left stood a red-haired young man with a curve-shaped tattoo on each cheek. He swung a lengthy metal rod between his fingertips and cocked his head to one side as he took in the view. Opposite of him was a dark-skinned man with a bald scalp. This one readjusted his sunglasses with a gloved hand.

Reno and Rude.

They were similar in age to Rufus Shinra and possessed striking personalities. Whereas Reno was loud and obnoxious, Rude was silent and calm. Their dark suits indicated they were Turks. Both had been assigned to guard the President's son. Even when they were not allowed into the classrooms, they stationed themselves outside the door to keep an eye on their man. Sephiroth knew Reno and Rude to be rookies though, still fresh out of their training days. He could probably show them his face and reveal his true name and neither rookie would be the wiser. Still, he took the necessary precautions to avoid direct confrontations with them.

The trio made their way up the series of steps. Students surrounded them, admiring how sharp their senior-class president looked this morning. The presence of Turks also stirred commotion from the populace. Many were taken by them. Briefly, Rufus Shinra glanced at the tall hooded figure in the middle of the pathway. The Prince kept silent but did offer a nod. Then he promptly directed his focus straight ahead, ignoring the compliments and questions directed at him by his newly formed posse. It was as if the rest of the world did not exist to Rufus.

The clock tower struck again shortly after. It signaled five minutes left before the final bell rung. Sephiroth watched Cloud and Zack pull away from each other and gather their belongings. They headed for the entry doors along with the rest of their group. A vast collection of students migrated forward. Sephiroth likened the scene to a herd of Chocobos being rounded up for a slaughter.

He picked up his own pace and now walked a few steps behind Cloud and his party. Their current conversation revolved around Kendo practice today. The shadow cast over Sephiroth's face concealed a small smile there.

Being a credit short of his physical education requirements, he actually signed up for it this year. Not that he needed to learn the skill. He had already achieved its mastery level by the age of eight. Sephiroth also knew his participation in the class would be limited due to his _skin condition_ and entering it at the _novice_ -level this late in the game. Still, even if all he did was rehash basic hand techniques and footwork, he looked forward to seeing Cloud in action. A spar with him would be nice too.

It was around this time that nagging feeling from before hit Sephiroth again. As he walked among the pack of students, something still felt amiss. He couldn't determine what it was but it teased the back of his mind ever since he arrived at school. Before he could debate on it any further, the blond-haired boy in front of him suddenly glanced back at his direction.

Sephiroth felt exposed.

Even in the midst of a conversation with Zack, Cloud's eyes looked his way. Sephiroth wondered if the boy knew he had been watching him – was he _that_ obvious? Cloud's piercing blue eyes slightly narrowed. Taken aback by this, Sephiroth contemplated on giving him an offhand morning greeting, something to diffuse the uneasy look on his face and open a channel of communication. It didn't take long for the silver-haired teen to finally understand what caught the other boy's attention though.

It wasn't him. It was someone else. Emerging from behind the wave of students, Sephiroth overheard Semusi's high-pitched voice.

" _Angel Face! Angel Face! You forgot your bag, Angel Face!_ " Semusi held a familiar shoulder bag in the air and waved it frantically. " _Angel Face! Angel Face! Come, come, come get your bag, Angel Face!_ "

Sephiroth realized those had been the words Semusi tried to share with him when he stepped out of the car earlier. And this had been _the thing_ nagging at him ever since.

Hordes of students laughed at the strange man who waddled forward and frantically yelled _Angel Face_ over and over again. He never stopped. The boys in front of Sephiroth conveyed varied reactions to this. Zack cocked a brow. Cloud further frowned. And both Essai and Sebastian chuckled aloud.

"Angel face, _angel face!_ " Sebastian mocked, using Semusi's exact tone and gestures. He flapped his arms and walked in circles. Essai grinned at the scene.

"Who the hell is that guy?" muttered Cloud. "And why is he looking our way?"

"Beats me," replied Zack next to him. With a smirk, he leaned closer to him and added, "Maybe he wants _you_ , Cloud. Maybe you're his _angel face_ and he's come to ask you out to the prom."

Cloud scoffed and elbowed Zack's waist. Afterward, he spat, "Not interested."

Underneath his hood, Sephiroth's face flushed red. He didn't know which was worse: the fact he had carelessly left his bag behind in his haste to leave Semusi or Semusi making a big scene in front of half the school. Only the first day of his final year and already a migraine headache developed. Putting an end to his misery, Sephiroth stopped in his tracks and cut through the crowd to reach his subordinate.

"Thank you," the teen mumbled and snatched the bag from Semusi's hand. "Thank you _very much_ …"

"Of course, Angel Face!" his servant piped up, not catching onto his low and even tone. "Anything I can do for you, Angel Face. Make lots of friends and meet lots of bunnies, Angel Face. Score with bunnies too, Angel Face, heh heh heh."

Sephiroth blankly stared at him and slipped the strap of the bag over his left shoulder.

"See you later, Angel Face." Semusi waved his hand and walked his unusual walk back to the car.

The word _freak_ popped in and out of the crowd once many learned Sephiroth was affiliated with the oddball man. Some went as far as to call him _Angel Face_ in jest. It couldn't be helped at this point.

No sooner did Sephiroth start for the school's entrance again, attempting to put all of this behind him, did he hear that god-awful, non-stop chirping sound from the car as it loudly pulled away. More smoke filtered out from its tailpipe. This generated more laughter from the people around Sephiroth. Even Rufus Shinra, who walked far ahead, looked back and forth between the malfunctioned vintage vehicle and him. A grin shaped his face before he snorted aloud and turned away. Sephiroth saw a similar reaction from Cloud and Zack. Smiling, they shook their heads and looked in disbelief.

" _Ah, man, I'd hate to be in that guy's shoes_ …" he overheard Zack say.

Gripping the strap of his bag tighter, Sephiroth kept his eyes forward. He followed the herd and inwardly wished a meteor would drop from the sky and decimate the whole school.


End file.
